Cookies and Sadness Spirals

It starts out innocently enough; click on a job search page and up pops a dialogue box about cookies. The web based ones of course, but now all I can think about is buttery, floury, gooey goodness of edible cookies. With incredible persistence, I move on and search for jobs but only after tweeting about it.

Then after a couple of applications are in the bag, or recruiters’ in-boxes as the case may be, I start searching for cookie recipes. Thanks to the kindness of a good friend I have a jar of green M&Ms that are desperate to be in cookies and ultimately in MY BELLY.

OK, moving on…whisk – I can totally do this… mix with beater. *stomach drops* I lost the beaters to my mixer when I moved. I moved because I couldn’t afford my rent. I couldn’t afford my rent because my right arm went on the fritz and no longer works properly.

I started this whole cookie baking mess because I was searching for jobs because I lost my last one because of my inappropriately functioning right arm which now mocks me and my NEED for COOKIES (the edible kind) because there is little possibility my right arm can mix batter in any way similar to the force and time needed to create dough sans electric mixer.

What’s the use in going on? I can’t even make cookies.

For real, people. I took a turn this quickly. Also, I may be a teensy bit dramatic.

I was on the phone catching up with an old friend earlier this week and he said he always reads my blog because, “even though sometimes it’s not happy, it’s always positive. Wait, now that I think about it, it’s mostly not happy.”

So here’s the positive. This morning I told a friend I’d apply for some jobs and do some writing* and now I have.

Going on and accomplishing some of what I set out to do – check

*I also said I do some laundry, but let’s not analyze this all too closely.